


Closer

by stammi_vicinora



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 16:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8807575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stammi_vicinora/pseuds/stammi_vicinora
Summary: Just little snippets of Viktuuri that we don't see in the episodes, focusing on their ever growing relationship as they become closer to each other. In other words: Major fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have never been so driven to write out a piece of fanfiction like I have for these two. It has gotten to the point where this takes more precedence over my schoolwork. This was initially written post episode 9 and was supposed to be a short oneshot with glimpses of the two of them just bonding up till the end of the GPF, but ofc knowing me it manifested itself into a multichap lol. This first chap never managed to get uploaded tho but after what happened in episode 10 (I was absolutely blindsided) major reconstructions have been made for this story. So for now, please enjoy some sweet Viktuuri (and Makkachin!)
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely @fangirlandiknowit ♥
> 
> P/S: Viktor is spelled with a K because I prefer it that way.

* * *

It was the night before they had to leave Hasetsu. The both of them were in Viktor’s room, two suitcases laid open (both Viktor’s) on the floor. One was already filled with things for the competition, ready to be zipped, closed and locked securely by a TSA approved padlock. The other, a slightly bigger one, was a mess with random clothes thrown messily into it. Viktor ran back and forth from his dresser to the bag to dump armfuls of clothes into the ever-growing pile each time, still indecisive of what to bring to Barcelona. Tomorrow, their journey for the Grand Prix finals would begin. Yuuri sat on the edge of the bed, scratching behind Makkachin’s ear who had her head on his lap, sighing as Viktor passed them with a couple of suits thrown over his arms.

“Viktor, why don’t you pick them out first before putting them in the bag? You’re making a mess,” Yuuri grumbled. This was a repeat performance of the night before their Beijing flight, clearly Viktor did not learn his lesson about packing last minute.

Yuuri’s advice fell on deaf ears as Viktor scrambled back to his set of drawers, seemingly forgetting something and pulling out the bottom drawer. “I almost forgot my swimming trunks! We can’t have that on our vacation now, can we?” Viktor hummed as he rummaged around to find them.

“Viktor, it might be a resort, but it’s the middle of winter. You won’t get any use of them in Barcelona this time of year,” Yuuri reminded him, but Viktor was too absorbed into whatever tropical fantasy he was having in his head to hear Yuuri’s words.

The Russian man suddenly sat up straight, a finger pressed to his lips in thought and Yuuri believed that Viktor had finally processed what he had said. “Ah, I didn’t use them this summer so they must still be in the moving boxes!” Viktor snapped his fingers as he remembered and clamoured to the other side of the room where a couple of his unpacked boxes were stacked neatly.

Brows knitting, because it was getting late and their flight tomorrow would be an early one to transit to Tokyo, Yuuri tried again to get his coach’s attention. “Viktor –”

“I found them!” exclaimed Viktor as he started pulling out a few pairs and waving them over his head. He turned to Yuuri with a bright smile, holding up a sea foam green one in his hands. “Hey Yuuri, help me pick out which ones to take to Bar –”

“ _Vitya_!” Yuuri shouted as he abruptly sat up, startling Makkachin who yelped and hopped off the bed. Yuuri took in deep breaths to calm himself from the sudden outburst and when he realised his error, he fell to his knees, frantically started apologising and waved his arms wildly at Viktor. “Viktor, I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me. I’m just a bit cranky, I guess... I’m really sorry!” He held his head in frustration, cheeks red from embarrassment for snapping at his coach. Makkachin beside him barked, probably as a reprimand on her master’s behalf but licked Yuuri’s face affectionately right after.

Surfacing from his inner turmoil, Yuuri lifted his head to look at Viktor who had remained quiet. “Viktor?” he called out slowly, a little bit concerned at Viktor’s response, or lack thereof. “Viktor, are you okay?” Yuuri questioned, his voice higher than usual as he started to panic and crawled towards the man.

Viktor’s mouth was slightly agape, looking quite shell shocked from Yuuri’s outburst. The swimming trunks he’d held up had fallen to the floor, but his hands remained where they were. However, when Yuuri reached a hand to him to check he was still alive, Viktor grabbed hold of his wrist. “Say it again,” he requested, voice so cracked it sounded almost like a plea. “Yuuri, say it again,” he repeated, stunning blue eyes turning soft as he rubbed gentle circles on the silky skin of Yuuri’s inner wrist with his thumb.

Feeling a blush creep up his neck, Yuuri wracked his brains trying to comprehend Viktor’s request. “U-umm, I said that you don’t need swimming trunks because it’s winter in Barcelona,” he stammered.

“No, Yuuri,” Viktor chuckled affectionately. He took Yuuri’s hand to his cheek, letting the knuckles graze his skin. “My name,” he clarified, pressing a tender kiss to one finger in particular. “You called me Vitya.”

Blinking for a few seconds, Yuuri tried to recall. “Oh, did I?” he asked curiously – to which Viktor pouted – tilting his head to the side but then shrugged. “I didn’t notice. I guess I picked it up from Yakov during the Rostelecom Cup,” he said, scratching his cheek sheepishly but then he straightened his back, fear welling up in his chest again. “W-was I not supposed to call you that? Was my pronunciation way off?”

“Oh, _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor cooed, pulling Yuuri closer to him and settling a hand on his waist. “That couldn’t be farther from the truth, my little katsudon,” he said, pressing their foreheads together, eyelashes lowering with a look that made Yuuri’s heart flutter. “Go on,” he breathed, smile encouraging.

Yuuri had a difficult time in swallowing but when he finally found his voice, he locked eyes with Viktor, and with such softness whispered his name. “ _Vitya_.”

It sounded like a secret between them, entwined with trust and affection. Yuuri knew something had happened between them in that instant, something pleasant. The two of them shared a tender and knowing smile, and Viktor’s hand slipped to Yuuri’s back to guide him into a soft embrace. Yuuri closed his eyes when Viktor angled his head just right and the two shared a moment together, one they pleasantly like to relive from time to time. After a heartbeat or two, the two of them pulled back, cheeks with a light dusting of pink.

Makkachin, wanting to join in the moment, stood on her hind legs and tried to squeeze into what little space there was between them, tail wagging excitedly. Viktor laughed and scratched her chin. “Okay, Makkachin gets some too,” he surrendered to his dog’s cute charms, wrapping his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

Makkachin barked happily and turned her head back to Yuuri, clearly wanting something from him as well. Viktor too, mimicked her look and Yuuri swore his heart melted. “Well, Yuuri, are you going to keep Makkachin waiting?” Viktor teased, eyes twinkling.

Just like Viktor, Yuuri was weak to Makkachin’s charms and pulled her to his arms as well. Makkachin pawed his chest and Yuuri nuzzled his nose into her curly fur. “Of course, you won’t get left out, Makkachin,” he chuckled. Overjoyed at the amount of love she was receiving, Makkachin tackled Yuuri to the floor, licking him with no mercy, much to the pleasure of both humans. “Makkachin, stop! I will die!” Yuuri giggled.

“We can’t have that now, can we?” Viktor hummed as he slid to the floor to lie next to Yuuri, patting Makkachin’s head. “You can’t eat the tasty katsudon all by yourself, Makkachin,” he scolded lightly and she whined and lowered her head onto Yuuri’s chest. They patted her to assure her that she was no way in any real trouble. “You have to promise that I get to have my share too,” Viktor supplied, throwing a wink Yuuri’s way.

“Viktor!” Yuuri groused out his name, covering his face with both hands. He could _not_ believe this man sometimes.

Clucking his tongue in disappointment, Viktor tugged Yuuri’s hands away. “I thought you were going to call me Vitya from now on!” There was an evident pout on Viktor’s lips as he sulked.

Yuuri huffed. “No,” and turned his head away to hide his flaming cheeks but he looked at Viktor from the corner of his eyes. Viktor merely smiled and scooted closer, eyes glittering knowingly. Yuuri came into terms that he had already lost the war. “Maybe sometimes,” he mumbled in Japanese, but he knew that needn’t be voiced.

“This is nice,” Viktor stated as he draped an arm over Makkachin to curl against Yuuri’s side, legs coming to tangle with Yuuri’s. He stifled a yawn, pressing his face to Yuuri’s bicep in an attempt to supress it. The thing about yawns was that they were contagious and not long after, Makkachin followed suit, making herself comfortable on top of Yuuri and Yuuri stifled his own with the back of his hand. Sleepy chuckles from both of them were not far behind. “Mmm, we should head to bed early tonight since we have an early morning tomorrow,” Viktor murmured sleepily, using Yuuri’s shoulder as a pillow and letting his eyes close.

Rubbing Makkachin’s head absentmindedly, Yuuri replied with his own sleepy, “Yeah.” Tucking his chin on top of Viktor’s head, Yuuri checked off the things of his mental to do list like he did every end of the day before letting sleep take over and in his hazy state had the sense to remember about the alarm. “Hey Viktor, did you set the alarm? Since our flight will be at 8:45, I think we should set it to –” Yuuri’s eyes went wide and he shot up in a panic, dislodging Makkachin off him for the second time that night.

“The flight!” he cried, looking over to the luggage and the messy state that they’ve left it in. “The packing! Viktor! Get up, we need to finish packing your things!” he wailed, getting to his feet and making his way to the bag to start folding some clothes in.

Viktor peeked an eye open. “We can do it tomorrow, Yuuri,” he tried to convince him. “Now come back here,” he said, opening his arms welcomingly.

“Ha?!” Yuuri gritted out his irritation as he did a double take back to him. They didn’t have time for this. “Viktor, no! We have to pack now!” he insisted, choosing a couple of tailored pants that he thought would be good. They should have done this for the start; just let Yuuri pack for him because Viktor and time crunch situations do _not_ mix. He huffed as he properly folded the mass of jumpers and turtle necks, only picking a select few for extra cold nights and began to tuck them neatly into the suitcase. Yuuri turned red when he had to deal with Viktor’s boxer shorts but he swallowed down the embarrassment because they simply had no time for that.

“Viktor, which ties do you want to use for interviews?” Yuuri asked, hooking a few on his arm to give Viktor a couple of choices. This was the only thing Yuuri would ask Viktor’s opinion on because Viktor had told Yuuri that he had horrible taste in tie choices, apparently. He turned around to show him but was greeted by the sight of his coach snuggling up with his poodle. Yuuri clenched his fists. “ _Viktor_ ,” he seethed.

“Yuuri, no!” whined Viktor, trying to swat Yuuri’s offending hand away. “You’ll make it worse!”

“Vitya, you are going to wake up, help me pack _your_ clothes and promise me you will never do last minute packing ever again in the future.” Yuuri’s voice was deceptively sweet while he practically ground his finger into Viktor’s hair whorl.

Mimicking the soft whimper from Makkachin, who could only sympathise with her master, Viktor nodded reluctantly in agreement. Satisfied with Viktor’s compliance, Yuuri turned his attention back to the suitcase. Viktor stuck out his lower lip as he massaged the sore spot on his head but was struck with the image of Yuuri packing for him. He drank in the sight of Yuuri’s backside as he folded and arranged his possessions and when he couldn’t help himself anymore, he lunged forwards and hugged the other man from behind.

Yuuri let out an incredulous, “Viktor!” from the shock and was about to tell him off again but it fell short when he felt Viktor’s hot breath on his ear. The short hairs on the back of his neck stood straight and Yuuri visibly shivered when Viktor casually brushed his lips across his earlobe.

“Please take care of me next time as well, Yuuri,” Viktor whispered in a voice so husky that all Yuuri could do was nod his head dumbly. There was a tight feeling in his chest when he registered that Viktor had said next time, implying that there _would_ be a next time. “Mmm, itadakimasu,” he mumbled, accent thick in his pronunciation.

Yuuri jumped when Viktor dipped his nose into the hollow of his clavicle. Hearing the soft breaths Viktor was giving out, he deduced that the man would fall asleep on him again and they were likely not to get the packing done if this kept up. Elbowing Viktor lightly to get his attention, Yuuri held up a light blue tie with bright red polka dots. “You’re wearing this for interviews,” he deadpanned.

“Yuuri, that’s hideous!” Viktor blanched, covering his mouth.

“It will get a lot worse if you don’t help me with packing right this instant,” Yuuri threatened, lifting a garish yellow tie.

Getting the hint, Viktor backed off and began to pick a couple of jeans for casual outings. When his eyes befell on what Yuuri had picked out for him, he gasped, mortified. “No, no, no, Yuuri, you can’t possibly pair those kinds of trousers with those shirts!”

Pausing in folding the dress shirt he was currently working on, Yuuri popped a blood vessel. “We wouldn’t have this problem if you didn’t leave packing till last minute!” he berated and for good measure, threw in the ugly yellow tie in the suitcase, much to Viktor’s horror. “That’ll pair well with your Chanel suit,” he sneered and proceeded to continue with his task at hand, secretly enjoying Viktor’s distress. That only gave them the excuse to go shopping in Barcelona before the finals – which was unavoidable anyway since it’s _Viktor_ , and hence larger suitcase – so it’s not that big of a deal.

It was close to midnight when they’d finally zipped the bag shut. Yuuri fell back onto the bed spread eagle with a relieved sigh, thankful that he could finally get some shut eye. Viktor chuckled and moved to switch the lights out. Yuuri scooted back to lie on one of the pillows effortlessly, Makkachin following him, wanting to be snuggled and Yuuri yielded, holding her close and kissing her nose goodnight.

Viktor threw the covers over them before slipping under it himself, scooting closer to the other two and gave his own pleased exhale. In the darkness, Viktor watched Yuuri, whose eyes looked back at him, eyelids heavy. He hummed, reaching over to brush the strands away from covering those eyes and both their lips twitched into a smile, Yuuri’s albeit sleepy. Neither raised the seemingly obvious question after Viktor had randomised the number combination of his luggage. If he wasn’t so dead tired, he would have trilled in happiness, but instead, he ran his thumb on the other man’s plush bottom lip. “Spasibo, Yuuri,” he breathed, his voice carrying out his emotions.

Yuuri hummed in acknowledgement, his lips puckering in response and slid a leg in between Viktor’s in order to get comfortable. He was drifting off to sleep but again, his mind began its automated task of going through his daily mental checklist. “Did you set the alarm for tomorrow?” Yuuri enquired, trying to blink out the sleep to hold a proper conversation with Viktor.

Chortling at Yuuri’s cuteness, Viktor reached back for his phone on the nightstand and did as instructed before putting it back into place. Holding the back of Yuuri’s head, Viktor cradled both him and Makkachin gently. Makkachin had long dozed off so Viktor took pleasure in seeing Yuuri’s features turn soft as sleep took over him. He listened to the soft breaths that filled the room before closing his own eyes. “Sladkikh snov,” he wished the both of them, finally retiring for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> As a writer, it's so hard to come up with good fanfiction for these two bc canon is already perfection? Like, how DO you top Kubo-sensei's work? I love her! I'll try my best and would just like to enhance our Viktuuri experience in any way that I can. There is going to be a LOT of fluff (and hints of eros *wink wink*) bc I think it just comes naturally with these two. They're adorable!
> 
> I hope this does Viktuuri some justice. Obviously, I cannot top the magnitude that is canon. If you liked it and would like to see more, please leave a kudos/and or a comment! Also, share the Viktuuri love! I would be really happy if you did. If you didn't know my tumblr is que-bae@tumblr.com so please talk to me about Viktuuri bc I am in love with these two being in love. What have we done to deserve these two? *sobs*


End file.
